


Sandor, baby!

by Cecilia1204



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Baby, Daddy Sandor, F/M, Fatherhood, Fluff, Tooth Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 04:45:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9304892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cecilia1204/pseuds/Cecilia1204
Summary: Daddy Sandor has to look after his six-month old princess on his own!   What fun!A one-shot continuation of 'The Santa Stand-in' but can be read independently.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AdultOrphan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdultOrphan/gifts).



> Adult Orphan asked to see Daddy Sandor in action. And what's cuter than a big, gruff man completely in love with his baby? Nothing, I say!

“Now, are you sure you’ll be ok alone with her? Because I can cancel this commission and stay home…”

“We’ll be fine, Little Bird.”

“…actually, I probably should cancel. It’s not a good time to go, so near Christmas…”

“Little Bird…”

“…how can I leave you both at this time? Nope. I’m going to call them…”

Sandor took hold of his wife with one hand, while holding his six month old daughter in the other. “Little Bird, stop.”

Sansa stopped her panicked gabbling and looked at her husband and baby, their beautiful little Holly, and smiled.

“Holly and I will be fine. This is the most prestigious commission you’ve ever been offered. You can’t turn it down. It’s only one night, Little Bird. I’ve looked after her on my own before,” he pointed out, giving his baby a kiss on her plump, rosy cheek.

“Never for so long, Sandor,” she pointed out. “And she’s teething, so she’s been cranky the last few days.”

“And you’ve left five pages of advice and instructions for me to follow, along with the numbers of the hospital, paramedics, family doctor, Poison’s Information – she can’t even crawl yet, how could she poison herself?”

Sansa shrugged sheepishly. “I don’t know, I’m just…”

“A worried mum, I know,” he chuckled and kissed her forehead. “I promise that your precious girl will be safe and sound when you come back. Roslin’s only ten minutes away if something comes up that I can’t handle.”

She nodded and hugged her family tightly. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Sandor, I promise. You’re the best father to her. I’m just feeling nervous and guilty for going away and leaving you two.”

“Ah, there’s nothing to feel guilty about, Little Bird,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her hair. “You’re a brilliant photographer and you deserve the recognition. It’s not every day you get asked to take family portraits of royalty. I’m proud of you. I’ll miss you like crazy, but I’m proud of you. You’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. It’s not like you’re going for months.”

Sansa sighed into his chest, taking hold of Holly’s little hand. “I love you, Sandor.”

“And you know how much I love you and our little birdling,” he replied. “I think I heard the taxi. Here, hold her while I load your bag into the boot.”

Taking hold of the chubby little girl, Sansa nuzzled her face into her daughter’s neck, breathing in the delicious baby smell. “I’m going to miss my little Holly Lolly,” she cooed and rocked her baby in her arms. “Yes, I will, but I’ll be home tomorrow. Be a good girl for your daddy, ok?” Holly giggled at the feel of her mum’s lips and wriggled like a puppy. “Mmm, love you so much, baby.” Sansa took in her baby’s features as if memorising them for when they were parted. It was only one night, but it would feel like a week to be away from the loves of her life.

“All set to go, Little Bird,” announced Sandor, brushing off a few flakes of snow from his hair.

“Don’t come outside,” she said, handing over the baby a little tearfully. “It’s too cold.”

With a last passionate kiss for Sandor and a loving one for Holly, Sansa, a few tears falling down her face, left the house but not before blowing them another kiss.

Sandor looked down at his little girl, who looked back at him with absolute trust in her blue eyes, so much like her mother’s that his heart already ached for his Little Bird. Separations had never been easy for them.

“Well, my Holly Lolly, it just the two of us now. Shall we have some fun?”

Holly opened her mouth and a great, big gob of drool rolled out. “Daba!”

* * * * * * * * * *

A couple of hours later and fun was the last thing Sandor could describe what he was going through.

“Where’s that teething ring?” he muttered as he rocked a crying Holly. “It should be in the fridge. Why isn’t it there?”

With one hand, he rummaged through the contents of his refrigerator, looking for the elusive rubber ring that was supposed to be soothing for her gums. “Fuck, where is that thing?” he swore before catching himself. Thank fuck Sansa wasn’t here. He wasn’t allowed to swear in front the baby. “You won’t tell Mum, will you?” he asked the baby, who just gave another wail.

Finally, he found it in one of the door compartments and put it in Holly’s mouth, her little hand grabbing it as she began biting on it furiously.

“Does that feel better?” he cooed as he brushed away her tears.

There were many times when Sandor could barely believe that this little angel in his arms was really his. How the fuck did he help make such a beautiful, living creature as Holly?

Sandor always said that Holly inherited ninety percent of her genes from her mother, only contributing his dark hair, for which he was eternally grateful. Sansa would deny it but her daughter looked so much like her, it was undeniable.

He could never remember being as soul-shakingly afraid as when Sansa was in labour with Holly. Despite reassurances from the midwife, to see his wife in so much pain was ghastly. Sansa refused drugs, confident she could cope without them. He would have gladly slayed dragons if it meant taking that pain from her. He kept having visions of his Little Bird dying, leaving him forever and it took everything in him to not beg her to not die. That he couldn’t live without her.

After what seemed like years of rubbing her back, wiping her forehead and whispering fevered reassurances that he loved her, but was, in fact, only around seven hours, Sansa delivered their baby daughter in a gush of fluids and to the tears of her parents.

They had chosen not to find out the sex, and Sandor couldn’t help the tiny feeling of relief when the midwife told him they had a girl.

As she was placed on her mother’s chest, Sandor looked unbelievingly at the tiny, red, muck-covered little human that he had helped create. He reached out an unsteady finger and when she grabbed it in hers, barely covering his nail, his heart lurched and he fell instantly in love with his little girl.

He unashamedly cried with Sansa as they stared in wonder at their baby.

“Holly,” whispered Sansa shakily, her voice simultaneously exhausted but elated as she stroked the dark, wet hair and red cheek of the infant.

“Huh?” he replied in a daze, not able to take his eyes off his daughter.

“I think we should name her Holly. I know we were going to name her after my grandmother, but…”

Dragging his eyes away, he turned and kissed his wife gently. “I love it, Little Bird. And I love you. You were amazing. Thank you for our family.”

Our family.

He had a _family_.

Two years ago he had nothing and now he had the most precious wife and child in the world and he vowed he would protect them until his last breath.

The last six months had been filled with joys and challenges.

Life with a new baby had been something neither of them had expected, no matter the amount of books Sansa had read before the birth.

They hadn’t realised that the first three months would be lived in a haze of exhaustion, sleeplessness, sore nipples, frustration and endless feeding.

Or the sheer wonder of looking down at their sleeping angel and feeling a love so overwhelming that Sandor didn’t know how to deal with it at first.

Holly took after her mother and was generally a sweet, happy baby. Sandor sighed with relief when she started sleeping through the night at four months, though the first time it happened, he jumped out of bed in a panic, racing frantically to her cot, terrified that something awful had happened, only to find her sleeping peacefully, tiny fist lodged under her chin.

It took him a while to calm his heart down after that.

His sex life with Sansa resumed after a couple of months and they quickly learned that taking their time became a luxury with a baby in the house. After the third time of getting interrupted right at critical point junctures, the foreplay was shortened to get to the main act before Holly woke up. Sandor missed the hours of play they had before the baby, but the fast, furious couplings whenever they had the opportunity had an appeal of their own.

Three months ago they had moved into their four bedroom house, ten minutes from Robb and Roslin’s house. Neither of them wanted to raise their child in the apartment, so they spent Sansa’s pregnancy looking for the perfect home. Sandor hoped to get a dog in a few months. He’d always wanted a dog.

Sansa’s photographic career took off and was very family-friendly as she could pick her commissions around Holly. Four weeks ago she had received an email about travelling to Dorne to take portraits of the King’s brother, Oberyn Martell, and his family. It would mean flying down and staying overnight.

Hesitant to leave Holly overnight, Sandor had encouraged her to take the job, saying it would do wonders for her career and that he was perfectly able to look after their daughter. He had always been a hands-on father - after the first time when he was terrified that he’d break something so small - and was confident that he could take care of a six month old without disaster happening.

So far, so good.

Putting Holly in her high chair – she’d only starting sitting on her own about a week ago – he took out the apple sauce Sansa had made. Though Sansa still fed her, having expressed what seemed like a dairy’s worth of milk for him while she was gone, Holly had been started on solid’s over a month ago. She loved her apple sauce and mashed banana.

Sandor got a kick out of watching her face when Sansa introduced a new food. The looks the baby produced were priceless, though the mess afterwards! He’d never realised that baby food could literally infiltrate everything. He’d even found some in his ear once.

“Ready for some apple sauce, Holly Lolly?”

“Daba!”

‘Daba’ was Holly’s first and only word so far. Sandor was convinced she was trying to say ‘Dada’ though Sansa said she was just babbling, but he didn’t believe it.

As usual, feeding Holly was an experience. By the end of it, she was covered in sauce, her hair clumping in spikes and sauce covering the high chair table. Some bits splattered on the floor and he was sure he got some in his own hair when she blew an apple sauce-filled raspberry at him.

It was as he was bathing her, nervously checking and re-checking that the temperature was just right and that the non-slip mat was stuck properly to the enamel, that things starting going downhill.

He knew she was teething – because Sansa said so – but he hadn’t expected the way her little cheeks reddened to such a degree. Also, she was dribbling so much, that he had a pile of soaked bibs stacking up as he changed them so often.

Then she began crying again and the teething ring was rejected.

For the next few hours Holly cried and Sandor was just about ready to cry with her.

Nothing seemed to soothe her.

He tried giving Holly her milk but she pushed it away. So he walked and walked with her, bouncing her gently and trying to soothe her. At times she would doze in his arms but if he tried to put her down, she’d wake up and begin screaming again.

“You got some of your father’s temper, didn’t you, Holly Lolly?” he grimaced as another wail rent the air.

The hours passed and day turned to night.

Sandor felt her cheeks, which were a little warm. Consulting Sansa’s notes – instruction manual, more like – he read up on what to do.

Thanking the deities that he only had to touch Holly’s forehead with the thermometer to get a reading, he saw that her temperature was only slightly elevated. Sandor could remember getting his temperature taken in hospital and the humiliation he’d feel as they couldn’t put it in his mouth due to the burns. He gave the baby some medicine to keep her temperature down and sat with her, crooning softly to her.

It must have worked as Holly’s crying stopped, thankfully.

By now, Sandor was exhausted. Seriously exhausted. How did the Little Bird do this day in, day out? And how did she survive with basically just one functioning hand? So far, just about everything he’d done had been single-handed as the other held his baby.

Tentatively sitting her in the high chair, Sandor pulled out a covered container with food Sansa had left for him. Giving Holly a rusk stick to chew on while he ate, he chatted away to his daughter, getting enthusiastic babbling in return.

“Daba! Daba, DABA!”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you Holly Lolly,” he replied as he grabbed some wipes to clean her again. “How about we get our ‘jammies on and you can watch the game with your old Daba? Never too early to learn the rules, I say.”

“Daba!”

His phone rang as he was standing up, smirking to see the Little Bird’s face light up the screen. This was probably the fifth call she’d made since she left hours ago.

“Hey, Little Bird. How’re the photos going?”

“Good. We’ve just finished and I’m being driven to my hotel. How’s Holly? Still crying?”

“Nah, the medicine did wonders. We’re just going to get comfy and watch the game.”

“I miss you both,” she told him, a huge sigh in her voice.

“And we miss you, don’t we? We miss Mama?” he cooed at the baby.

“Daba!”

“See, she agrees with me. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow,” said Sandor huskily.

“Me either. I’m going to get room service and watch some tv and count the hours until I get home to you both.”

“I think it’s time we got Arya to babysit Holly so we can have a night for ourselves, Little Bird,” he told her, imagining himself in that hotel room with her. “It would be nice not to have to rush, for a change.”

Sansa giggled. “Mmm, that sounds amazing. I miss having you feasting on me for hours.”

Sandor groaned and felt his jeans tighten. “I’m call Arya tomorrow, Little Bird.”

“Maybe for our anniversary? Not on the day of course, as it’s Holly’s first Christmas and we have to celebrate it.”

“Between Christmas and New Year, maybe?”

“I’ll have a talk with Arya,” said Sansa. “She loves spending time with Holly.”

“’Bout time she had her own,” commented Sandor.

“Not ready, she says. Wants to enjoy herself more before becoming a mother,” replied Sansa.

“I suppose. What’s that smell? Crap! She’s done a crap. Better go, Little Bird.”

Sansa laughed as she told him off for swearing. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you, Sandor. Love you, my little darling.”

“Love you too, Little Bird. Safe trip.”

Taking a deep breath as he hung up, Sandor quickly came to regret that move.

“Holy fu…fudge, Holly! What have you done in there?” he wondered, shaking his head. “That smells worse than a dead rat!”

Picking her up from the chair, his hand touched something gross under her bottom. “Ugh! It’s gone everywhere!”

Holly giggled at her father’s face, pulling on his hair as he wondered what to do first.

She had done a runny poo that seeped out from her nappy, liberally coating her leg and the seat. Where ever he put her down, the mess was going to spread, as it was already on his hand.

Holding her under the armpits, he carried Holly up to her room and placed her on the change mat Sansa kept in the room. It was on the floor now as Holly had started rolling over and Sansa was worried that Holly might roll off accidentally.

Kneeling down, Sandor unsnapped her fastenings, grimacing the whole while as he peeled away the offending nappy.

“Bloody hells, girl! You’ve outdone yourself. How does a pipsqueak like you even hold that much shit inside you?”

“Daba!”

Never again would Sandor devalue the work of parents anywhere, as he struggled with a wriggling infant whilst trying to wipe up the mess and not spread it even further than it already was.

“You’re going to need another bath, my girl,” he muttered as he pulled off the rest of her clothes. Wiping her up as best he could, he put another nappy on whilst he filled the bath and cleared the mess away. The change mat probably needed to be burned, in his opinion. Or at least a hose down!

Central heating kept the house nice and warm, so he placed her in her cot for safe keeping. Holly wasn’t happy to be left and promptly let him know, yelling her little head off.

“I’m going as fast as I can, Holly!” he yelled back from the bathroom where he set the water running and ran back to her room to clear up. “Right, I’m going to take this outside, then give you a bath. For pity’s sake, don’t do another one of those. At least, not until your mother come’s home, ok?”

“Daba.”

“Good.”

By the time he’d changed himself out of his soiled top into his track pants and t-shirt, cleaned the mess, gave Holly her bath and put her in her onesie, half the game was over.

Grabbing a blanket, he lay back on the comfortable lounge, his daughter snuggled sleepily on his chest.

One hand holding her securely, his other gently stroked the baby’s back as he kissed her head and hummed softly. They’d found out early that she liked to hear the deep thrum of his voice, that it soothed her. Most times.

“Daba,” murmured Holly before letting out a huge yawn, Sandor following suit.

“Yeah, I know. You’ve worn me out kid,” he murmured.

Looking down, he saw that her blue eyes were closed. In sleep, she looked like the purest angel, her mouth slightly open and pouted as she dreamed the dreams of babies.

“Love you, my little Holly Lolly,” he murmured, kissing her soft hair again.

He knew he should carry her to bed, but he was enjoying the feel of her tiny body snuggled up to his chest and saw no harm in watching the rest of the game before he did that.

Just for a little while…

When he awoke the next morning, he was surprised to find himself unable to move, what with his baby sprawled all over his chest and his wife tucked tightly into his side.

_What the…?_

It was still very early, the light only beginning to filter in through the blinds. Holly was still snoring her baby snores. Sandor could feel the ache from having obviously slept in this position most of the night.

“Sansa?” he woke her, voice croaky from sleep.

“Hmm?” she hummed, burrowing further into his neck.

“Little Bird?”

At that, she opened one eye and smiled sleepily, hugging him tighter. “Morning, my love.”

“What are you doing home? You weren’t due back ‘till this afternoon?”

Sansa yawned and sat up, stroking her daughter’s back with a loving smile. “I know, but I missed you both too much, so I changed my flight, got a red-eye and got in around three this morning. When I saw the two loves of my life looking so cute in here, I had to join them.”

Leaning down, she kissed him tenderly before breaking it off with a yawn. “Oh, sorry!” she chuckled.

“Come on, Little Bird. Let’s go back to bed. Or _to_ bed, I should say. We might get another couple of hours before she wakes for her breakfast. Besides, my back is killing me!”

Giggling, Sansa got up and took her daughter into her arms, holding her close but trying not to wake her just yet.

Sandor lay there for a moment and admired the both of them. His whole world was right there. Sansa was home and they were all together again.

Standing up gingerly, he stretched to ease the kinks in his back before draping his arm around his girls.

“Welcome home, love.”

 

         


End file.
